


Barefoot In The Sand

by Higgles123



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22240519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgles123/pseuds/Higgles123
Summary: Little one shot I wrote from a tumblr request. Is there a reason that Alfie survived after being shot by Tommy?
Relationships: Alfie Solomons/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	Barefoot In The Sand

The sun was warm upon your face and the gentle crashing of the waves against your toes was calming. You loved the sea. There was something so magnificent about it. It was beautiful and nurtured thousands of living things, while at the same time having the instant ability to swallow an unsuspecting person whole and drown them silently within its depths. You often thought of the stories you were told as a child of mermaids and other glorious sea creatures, and those stories had forged the most magically wondrous images in your mind.

Your family were travellers; had been for generations long before you, and while you adored seeing new places, there was something almost lonely about your life. The girls your age were all married with at least one or two children by now. They cooked and cleaned and reared the infants and did exactly as the menfolk told them. And they were happy enough with that. It was all the life they had ever known so why would they question it?

But you had always been different. Your grandmother, when she was alive, had cultivated your thirst for knowledge and your quirky nature. She had seen it as something refreshing and endearing, but the rest of your family wanted you to be just like everyone else. You felt sometimes that they were almost ashamed of you. This was why you loved the sea so much. It was so vast and expansive. There was such a myriad of creatures in all colours, shapes and sizes, free to live wherever the waves took them. There was so much space for them all to live together while still being able to get lost.

That’s what you craved. Perhaps to those on the outside looking in, the travelling life was freeing and carefree, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. You found yourself surrounded constantly by family and people who you called family, despite them being of different bloodlines. You couldn’t do anything without being called upon to partake in some sort of task or watch one of the children.

Solitude was your friend where many saw it as a nemesis. So for as long as you could remember, whenever the vardos and caravans had stopped somewhere close the sea, you would find a way to sneak off when everyone was finishing lunch and return before supper. It used to drive your father mad and he would do everything he could to prevent you from getting away unseen. Over the last few years, when he had finally conceded that you would continue to defy him, he allowed you go after lunch so long as you had finished helping your mother and the other women with the chores.

This afternoon, there was not a soul about to disturb you. The beach was deserted and it was perfection. You lay underneath the sun, soaking in its rays and breathing in the fresh smell of salty sea air. But even with your eyes closed, you noticed when a darkness suddenly fell and you opened your eyes expecting to see blackening skies about to burst with rain. But the face peering down over you was most certainly surprising.

You sat up with a gasp at the sight of a man with one eye and a scarred facing, frowning at you. Somehow, and with all the grace of a newborn deer, you managed to headbutt the man and the two of you groaned at the same time.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man squeezed his eyes-well eye- shut and held his hand to his forehead. “Well at least I know you aint dead.”

“Dead?” you grimaced, wishing desperately for the throbbing of your own forehead to abate with speed. “Why would I be dead?”

“Well you was lyin’ half in the water, still as a fuckin’ statue so what else would I think?”

“That I was just relaxing?”

“Hmm,” the man grunted, narrowing his eyes as though that thought hadn’t quite crossed his mind. “Well, if you’re alive then I’ll be goin’ before you do me another injury, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologised finally. “It was an accident; you startled me.”

“Yeah well that’s cos I thought you was-“

“-Dead, yes I know,” you finished for him, brushing the sand from your legs.

“’Scuse me for tryin’ to do summit decent,” the man grumbled.

“What happened to your face?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You smacked a hand over your mouth and wished that the sand could open up and pull you in before you died of embarrassment.

You don’t know why you asked him. You were just intrigued. No, that was a lie; you were just nosey. You liked to know everything and although you had apparently had some sort of filter between your brain and mouth, it seemed that more often than not yours was broken. It wasn’t that you were offended by his scars. In fact, your grandmother had been covered from the neck down in scars. She had spilt a pot of boiling hot water over herself as a young girl and had never fully recovered. No, scars were nothing more to you than a physical manifestation of someone’s personal story. Wrinkles appeared when people grew older and hair turned grey. Your grandmother always said wrinkles around the eyes told of a person who had smiled a lot, while those around the mouth were caused by too much frowning.

But scars were interesting. They weren’t the same for everyone, and there was always a story behind even the smallest of scars. Which was why you found yourself desperate to know what had happened to him. This beast of a man who growled like a bear and looked like one too, but at the same was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen. There was just a raw maleness to him that hit you right in the gut.

Growing up in such close proximity to other people, you knew all there was to know about the things men and women did together. You had seen and heard enough when your parents thought you were sleeping, or when a pair of betrothed youngsters would sneak behind one of the caravans during a party. You had listened to the women talking freely and openly about sex and how it made them feel. Some of the things they discussed made you turn beetroot red with embarrassment and your eyes widen in disbelief. You looked at the boys in your camp and try to imagine yourself doing some of the things you’d heard of with them, but the thought always made you cringe. But this man before you almost made you feel as though you understand what it meant to desire someone in that way. You should probably feel appalled at yourself for thinking so wantonly about a man you had literally just met, but thoughts were just thoughts, weren’t they? It wasn’t like you were actually doing anything about it.

“Straight to the point you, aint ya?” the man scoffed, interrupting you from your lustful thoughts. “Some might say rude actually.”

“I prefer the term inquisitive,” you smirked.

The man eyed you for a moment, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to weigh you up. After a few moments, his face split into a grin and he shook his head wryly.

“I don’t usually talk about me personal business to people what are strangers, yeah, but I reckon for your sheer audacity alone I could make an exception this time.”

You smiled, finding yourself entranced by the manner in which he spoke. He was rough around the edges, that much you could tell, but there was something about him that spoke of a man who didn’t suffer fools and was eloquent in his own way.

“Well, if I tell you my name I won’t be a stranger, will I?” you said.

“True enough,” the man nodded, scratching his beard before holding out his hand. “Name’s Alfie Solomons.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you smiled, taking his hand and finding yours engulfed by the sheer size of his.

“Y/N,” Alfie tested the name out, liking the way it felt upon his tongue. “Where do you hail from then? Cos you don’t sound like you’re from ‘round ‘ere.”

“Neither do you,” you answered. “But I thought you were supposed to be answering my question first? So you do that and then I’ll maybe tell you where I’m from.”

“Is that right?” Alfie grinned. “And if I choose not to?”

“Then take yourself and walk back in the direction you came from, and leave me to enjoy the peace and quiet again,” you raised an eyebrow playfully and sat down on the sand, looking at him almost daringly. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Alfie grinned even wider. “You drive a hard bargain, woman.”

“Blackmail is a strong point of mine,” you teased. “My sister gives me a penny a week so I don’t tell my Dad that I caught her kissing someone she ought not to have been kissing. And that was nearly two years ago.”

“Are you bein’ serious?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, your eyes twinkling playfully.

Alfie chuckled and with a groan lowered himself down to sit on the sand beside you. He stretched his legs out and you noticed how much longer his were than yours. In truth, now that he was right next to you, you could see that he wasn’t as big as you first thought. It was more the way in which he held himself that made him seem larger and, to some, most likely rather intimidating. You wanted to ask if it was intentional, but you were already awaiting the answer to your first question.

“I spent all me adult life doin’ things what I perhaps aint all that proud of,” Alfie began, and you weren’t sure if you could sense the tiniest hint of nerves. “Done a lot of bad things and made a lot of enemies. Always knew me time was gonna come eventually and I wanted to make sure it happened right here on this beach. And it did.”

You prodded his arm and he frowned.

“I was just checking you were actually real and not a ghost or something,” you explained casually.

“Right, well I’m definitely alive as you can see,” Alfie smirked. “Now are you gonna let me finish the story?”

You nodded and smiled, not noticing the way Alfie’s gaze swallowed you whole. He was certain that he had never seen someone so beautifully breath-taking.

“Right, so one of the blokes I’d double crossed for the last time knew where to find me. Well, I told him, to be honest,” Alfie continued, his eyes staring out at the dark blue sea, broken by the white foam of the waves. “Couldn’t even bring himself to do it until I shot at him first. Bullet went straight through my eye. Didn’t fuckin’ kill me though. No fuckin’ idea why, but all I knew was that I woke up here with the sea crashin’ into me and realised I weren’t dead.”

Suddenly you understood why he had thought you were dead. He had subconsciously been reliving his own near death experience. You had so many questions. You felt like you needed to know everything about this man. For him to enemies that would attempt to kill him should have set you on edge, but all you got from him was a warm fuzzy feeling. There was a dangerous air about him, but for some reason all you felt was safety. You felt as though he could put his arms around you and protect you from the world forever.

“So now it’s time for you to answer my question, innit?” Alfie grinned.

“A deal’s a deal, I suppose,” you nodded.

You chewed your lip as you pondered how to tell him. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your heritage but unfortunately people had a tendency to look down upon travellers. Tinkers, pikeys, dirty thieves were just some of the slurs you’d heard in your life. And you desperately wished for Alfie to not look at you like that.

“I’m from everywhere and nowhere,” you said simply.

Alfie narrowed his eyes and studied you intently, nodding in understanding. You looked up reluctantly to meet his gaze and saw nothing but friendliness and warmth there.

“I reckon you can be from somewhere and still feel like you’re from nowhere, you know,” Alfie spoke softly. “I grew up in the same place my entire life but I never really felt like I belonged there. That’s why I come here. This is the only place I’ve ever felt like I belong.”

“That’s very poetic,” you smiled. “And very true. I’m from everywhere and yet I crave being from just one place. Better to be from one place where you belong than to be everywhere but nowhere all at once.”

“You know what the simple answer to that one is, don’t ya?” Alfie smiled. “You just stay wherever your heart tells you to.”

“If only it was the easy,” you sighed. “My family would never go for it. The only time they’ll ever let me out of their sight is when I’m married, and even then it’ll be to another traveller.”

“Who says?” Alfie winked. “Life can change at the drop of a hat, can’t it? You never know when you’re gonna meet someone who changes your life in ways you could never anticipate.”

“You really believe that?” you breathed.

Was it foolish to think that he felt the spark that you did? Maybe it was, but only time would tell.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Somehow, over the past week, you had come to enjoy a steady friendship with Alfie. He met you on the beach every day and you had even managed to get him to take off his shoes and walk barefoot with you sometimes. You had explained to him that when your feet met with the sand and your toes squelched in the golden grains, it was a way of grounding yourself and centering yourself. It made you feel connected to the earth and reminded you that you were only a miniscule part of a greater picture.

Alfie thought your strange quirks were madly endearing, and even when you tried to teach him how to sit and quiet his mind, he found his lips twitching. He opened his eyes and watched you sat cross legged and your palms resting upon your knees. You breathed in and out slowly, the picture of calmness and serenity. The light sea breeze whipped the wisps of (colour) hair around your face like a halo and he found him himself studying every inch of you freely. You haunted his dreams and when he was with you, he found himself feeling lighter than he had in a long time. Lighter than perhaps he had ever felt in his entire life.

“You can’t very well be thinking calm thoughts with your eyes open and staring at me,” you raised an eyebrow and cracked one eye open to catch him in the act.

“Course I can,” Alfie frowned. “In fact, I was just thinkin’ about how lookin’ at you makes me feel calm in fact.”

“It does?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter of excitement in your chest.

All week the two of you had danced the dance of politeness and courteousness; even in the midst of revealing each other’s deepest and darkest secret, dreams, hopes and fears. By this point you were certain nobody you knew the way Alfie did, and you also knew that you never wanted anyone else to know you the way Alfie did.

But there was something you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to mention to Alfie. Your parents had decided that tomorrow your family would be moving on somewhere else. You didn’t know if or when you would return to Margate… and to Alfie. For some reason the thought of being without him hurt like a knife in the heart. You weren’t sure how in the space of just a few days you had come to crave his company, but you were certain you didn’t think you could live the rest of your life without him now.

“It does,” Alfie nodded, smiling gently.

He was so handsome when he smiled. He was handsome when he didn’t smile as well, but there something about that smile of his that lit up his entire face with an almost youthful glow. It made you want to smile back, and it made you want to do and say things to make him keep smiling.

“Remember the other day when you asked me if I thought there was a reason God saved me that day when I got shot?”

“I remember,” you nodded. “You told me that you didn’t believe in fate and all that, and the reason you were alive was purely down to luck and someone’s terrible aim.”

Alfie grinned, scratching at his beard as he picked up a handful of golden sand.

“At the time, I think I believed that. But then I went home and started thinkin’… thinkin’ until I thought me head would explode. I realised that once I thought I had been content with power and money; but I was wrong. There was always a part of me missin’ and I used to think it was Margate that would fix it,” he spoke, letting the sand fall from in between in his fingers in waterfalls of gold that hypnotised you. “But then I met you lyin’ right in that spot where I got shot and surely it can’t be coincidence? I don’t let people in; I keep them out and lock the door and maybe put up a few iron bars to be safe. But the second I met you, I couldn’t do that. You’re like no person I’ve ever met before and I truly think that there is a reason I didn’t die that day. That reason is you.”

You held your breath as Alfie cupped your cheek and stroked his thumb gently across your cheekbones. You could feel his breath upon your face; you could smell the faint aroma of the sweet pipe tobacco he smoked. Your eyes traced every detail of his face; the criss crossing of scars on his eye, the faint grey hairs mingling with brown ones in his beard; the way his full soft lips were pouting and visible despite the facial hair surrounding them. You smiled, wishing you knew how to say all the things you wanted to say to him. You had never been one who was at a loss for words in any situation. Your mother always said you were far too wise beyond your years, but you felt so juvenile right now. So childlike.

Alfie leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours in a kiss so light that you almost weren’t sure you felt it. When you didn’t pull back or slap him or any of the other things he was expecting, he smiled; that great big smile that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. He kissed you again and this time his mouth was firm against yours; firm but not dominating. He licked at your lips and hummed when you parted slightly to allow his tongue in.

Your mind took you back to a time last year at the horse fair when you had kissed one of the Lee boys. His tongue had been slimy and slippery as it had almost choked you, and his breath had reeked so bad that you had gagged. But this was like nothing you had ever known. Alfie’s hands through your hair were gentle as they almost massaged at your scalp and his tongue teased yours, leaving you desperate for more.

Suddenly, Alfie pulled back and you slapped a hand over your mouth when you saw the dollop of seagull excrement that had fallen right on top of his head.

“Dirty fuckin’ bastard,” Alfie grumbled, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and grimacing.

“Here, let me,” you took the handkerchief with a barely concealed smile.

“You think this is fuckin’ funny, don’t ya?” Alfie narrowed his eyes at you.

“Of course not,” you smirked. “You know, some people say it’s good luck.”

“That right? Well, how about we get Mr Seagull back so he can shit on your head and see if you think it’s so lucky then?”

“Nah, it’s ok,” you giggled.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Alfie nodded. “Cheeky bugger.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The sun was setting, casting the most glorious shades of pinks and reds upon the vast sky and sea.

“It’s lovely isn’t it,” you breathed. Your heart was leaping madly as Alfie ran his thumb along your knuckles and clasped your hand even tighter in his.

“Beautiful,” Alfie agreed. Only it wasn’t the sky he was looking at.

You lay your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. You knew what you were doing. You were trying your best to make this day last as long as it could; to clutch franticly at these memories so that they could sustain your forever. You had to tell Alfie. You knew you had to tell Alfie, but telling him would make it real.

“I can hear your brain tickin’ from here,” Alfie murmured softly, brushing your hair back behind your ear.

You turned your head and a tear slid silently down your cheek. Alfie caught it and brought it to his lips.

“You’re leavin’, aint ya?”

The breath left your body, but it wasn’t with relief. You didn’t know what it was with in all honesty.

“When do you go?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” you whispered, feeling like your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.

You had never taken yourself for a hopeless romantic but meeting Alfie had changed that. Meeting Alfie had changed _you._

The silence between you both for the first time was strained. It wasn’t that comfortable peace you had come to appreciate with each other. Alfie’s body was tense and rigid beside yours and his face had become a mask of stone.

“I should really go,” you muttered. “My parents will be sending a search party out for me.”

“Let them,” Alfie said, standing up suddenly and pulling you up as well. “Let them come lookin’ for you. Or even better, let’s go and find them right now. Let’s go and find them so I can tell them that I aint lettin’ you go anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” he shook his head, wrapping his arms around you. He kissed your head and breathed in your smell. You smelt like the sea and freshly cut grass, and you made him feel cleansed to even be in your presence. “You’re not going anywhere. You belong here, with me. Always.”

Tears of joy poured down your face and you threw your arms around Alfie, wrapping your legs around his waist as he picked you up. Your mouths were fused together and neither of you wanted to come up for air. You could breathe for each other.

But eventually Alfie lowered you gently to the ground until your feet met with the soft sand. You each picked up your shoes and smiled before beginning the walk back to your camp.

Hand in hand you strolled barefoot in the sand; walking towards your destiny together. One day when you were both long gone, the sea would tell stories of your love as it crashed gently in waves upon the sand.

One day when you were both long gone, the sea and the sand would still be here. And in a way that meant so would you. Forever.


End file.
